


Tsunage

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Consent is Sexy, Dom!Kenma, Kinbaku, KuroKen - Freeform, Light BDSM, M/M, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Shibari, Smut, Yakuza AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:49:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29398638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Tsunage・繋げverb1) to connect2) to tie/fasten// When members of the main Kozume Clan branch come of age, they learn the ancient art of Kinbaku. While it is primarily taught as an art form, Kenma decides to try out its...alternate use.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 7
Kudos: 49





	Tsunage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lunasolaris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunasolaris/gifts).



> Thank you so much to [@lunasolaris4](https://twitter.com/lunasolaris4) for requesting this fic! I can't say I'm experienced at all with this subject, but I had a lot of fun doing research on it. It ended up WAY softer than I thought it would, but I hope that's okay! Enjoy!

“I trust you will bring me adequate results this time,” Kenma says, taking a sip of matcha tea. The sweet, grassy flavor of this afternoon’s brew brightens on his tongue.

The man bowing before him, one of his father’s lackeys, keeps his eyes trained on the tatami. “Yes, sir. Our spies have indicated the Daishou Clan intends to propose an unfavorable business deal during your next negotiation.”

Kenma quirks his mouth. “I can’t blame those snakes for protecting their own interests, I suppose.”

The man bows further. “I promise we’ll convince them to defer to your judgment before next week.”

Kenma sets his teacup on the coffee table, then rises from the couch he lounges on. The man flinches, but remains in place. To move is to criticize the discipline the Kozume Clan instilled in all of their personnel. The penalty for disrespect is a finger—or a hand, maybe a head—too expensive despite pledging a lifetime of devotion to Kenma’s family.

He leans down and tilts the man’s head up with a finger. His lips spread into a closed-mouth smile, their faces close enough for the man’s breath to tingle against Kenma’s face. “Please look me in the eyes when you make promises. I can’t place my trust in those who can’t face me properly.”

The man’s eyes drop to Kenma’s lips, ignoring orders involuntarily, but he quickly reorients to Kenma’s golden stare. “Yes...sir.”

Kenma leans in further, whispering into the man’s ear. “That’s what I like to hear.”

A quiet footstep.

He lets his finger slide along the underside of the man’s chin as he pulls away. As he returns to his seat, he catches the man in the nearby armchair hiding a smirk behind the rim of his teacup. It’s a common game to tease those loyal to their family, one Kenma knows Keiji never grows tired of viewing. It’s part of the reason Kenma invites him to private meetings and vice versa. When they’re asked, however, their almost lifelong friendship becomes a convenient excuse for their behavior.

The man stands and bows deeply, scurrying out of the room with a prominent blush on the back of his neck. It almost resembles the _hinageshi_ pattern adorning Kenma’s kimono, their petals stark against the black fabric.

“Poor boy,” Keiji says. “I suppose he wasn’t informed of your penchant for teasing new recruits.”

Kenma lays down on his side and pulls his phone from his inner breast pocket, checking for game notifications. “At least I’m not as bad as my mom. She threatened the last three people we hired. I think one of them keeps trying to fuse with the wall when she passes him in the hallway.”

“I think your use of formal speech on its own is enough of a threat. You rarely get so serious.”

Kenma’s eyes flick over to the man guarding the door directly across the room from the couch. Kenma can barely register him breathing except for the slight rise and fall of his shoulders. His eyes are focused on some spot on the wall behind Kenma just as they have been for the last hour. “Today’s different.”

Keiji nods. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, Kenma, but Bokuto-san and I have dinner plans tonight.”

“Oh yeah. That’s fine.” Kenma raises his hand into the hair.

The bodyguard by the door, Kuroo, rushes to his side without compromising his own posture. He pulls Kenma to his feet and they lock eyes, Kenma demuring in order to hide a smile. His mother taught him to never reveal emotional states unless absolutely vital. After spending the last 13 years with Kuroo at his side, even a twitch can cause suspicion.

Keiji places his teacup on the table and stands by himself. The other bodyguard who had been standing on the side of the door opposite Kuroo is at Keiji’s side in an instant, somehow even more eager than Kuroo had been.

“We’re still going to the arcade this weekend, yeah?” Kenma asks.

“Yes, of course. Bokuto-san hasn’t talked of anything else since you suggested the outing.”

“It’s not every day we get to relax,” Kuroo says with a smirk. They’re the first words he’s spoken since briefing Kenma on the daily agenda.

Kenma snorts quietly. “That’s assuming you’re allowed to slack off.”

“Since when did you start deciding to give me orders, hmm?”

Kenma levels him with a gaze, both playful and dignified, a reflection of the man from earlier. “Since I finished my training yesterday evening.”

Kuroo licks his lips.

“Well, I suppose that’s our cue to escape the premises,” Keiji says. “I don’t envy whoever passes by your room this afternoon. Perhaps the rest of the day.”

Bokuto raises an eyebrow and looks between the three of them. “What does that–”

“I assure you, all you need to be concerned about are the opinions of those who pass our own room each night.” Keiji entangles his fingers with Bokuto’s. “I believe one of the guards on the midnight shift switched with another of our personnel for the foreseeable future.”

Bokuto grins and places a kiss on Keiji’s neck. “I can’t help it. They don’t know how pretty you are.”

“Nor do I plan to show them.”

“Alright, you two,” Kuroo nods over to the door, “get out of here before someone has to drag your asses out.”

They see themselves out. Before they leave, Keiji gives a knowing look. “Enjoy yourselves.”

Kenma and Kuroo leave the reception room as well, but they head further into the house. Kuroo slips his arm around Kenma’s waist and pulls him close.

“Did you mean it when you said you finished your training?” he asks.

Kenma nods. “Mom said I was ready to...test it out.” Kenma leans into Kuroo’s hold. “Take the rest of the day off with me and I’ll show you. You owe me, after all.”

“I wasn’t going to fight you on it, but what do you mean I owe you?”

Kenma begins to slip into his professional voice, confidence increasing as if he wears a new self. “Remember how I asked you to stay still during today’s meeting, and how you would be reprimanded for any unnecessary movement?”

Kuroo swallows. “Yes.”

“You moved.”

Kuroo scrunches his mouth. “Maybe I didn’t like how close you were to that guy.”

“Sounds like an excuse.”

Kuroo presses a kiss into Kenma’s hair. “It’s both.”

“Regardless,” Kenma pulls away and gently pokes his side, “you ignored direct orders.”

“Okay, first thing’s first, am I actually being reprimanded or is this a ‘punishment’?”

“The _asanawa_ in my room was woven specifically for you, so I’m sure you can figure it out for yourself.”

In reality, Kenma ordered the hemp rope the moment he began training and hid it where Kuroo couldn’t find it, but he doesn’t need to know.

Kuroo hums. “Then I definitely moved without your permission and you should definitely show me what happens when I disobey,” he nips at Kenma’s ear, “Kozume-sama.”

Kenma shivers, but fakes a cool grace.

 _He’s not allowed to throw you off today_ , he reminds himself.

Since Kenma maintains a separate room for his video game collection, a room in which the walls are covered in shelves stuffed with titles from a number of console generations. Other than his games, he doesn’t care for much else. Therefore, his bedroom only has the basics: a small closet, a low table for working on (which is currently pushed to a corner), and a small three-drawer chest mainly for storing paperwork. Before leaving the room in the morning, Kenma had positioned his futon in the center of the room, a spare blanket over the top in case their activities became more messy than usual.

“So?” Kuroo prompts. “What would you like me to do first?”

Kenma looks him over. While the Kozume family wore traditional clothing exclusively, all of their personnel are required to dress just like members of other yakuza groups. Kuroo would be wasted on traditional wear, since the suit manages to accentuate his broad shoulders and his cute butt. Kenma had asked him more than enough times to keep the suit on while he fucked Kenma into the floor. Maybe they could try out the ropes next time…

“Take everything off,” Kenma commands before he ruins all his plans.

“Ooh, feisty are we?” Kuroo begins to remove his suit jacket. “I love when you tell me what to do.”

“Kuro.”

He stops, his fingers in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt. “Yes?”

“Be good.”

Kuroo licks his lips, a slight blush forming. “Yes, sir.”

While Kenma keeps work supplies in the top two drawers of the chest, he has a whole other set of tools in the bottom drawer. First, he grabs a bottle of lube and tosses it to Kuroo who’s just finished removing his slacks. Kenma finds himself distracted for a moment before he remembers to grab his second and third tools, a blindfold and several ropes.

When Kenma turns back around, Kuroo is fully naked and laid out on the futon. His arms are crossed behind his head and his smile is carefree.

“You’re already half-hard,” Kenma observes.

“I told you,” Kuroo slides his hand down his chest and along the dark hairs that are usually hidden just beneath his waistband, “I love when you tell me what to do.”

Kenma holds up the ropes. “Then sit up. I can’t put these on you if you’re lying down.”

Kuroo holds out his arms, pressing his wrists and forearms together. “Yes, please.”

Kenma rolls his eyes. “Arms down. I have to do your chest first.”

For the first method, he focuses on Kuroo’s chest. He kisses both of his shoulders before beginning. He knots the ropes in diamond patterns, making sure each knot is in a location that won’t chafe easily. He has lotion for later, but it’s better to be safe from the start.

“This one is called _kikkou shibari_ ,” Kenma says, his voice even, just as it would be if he were in the middle of practice and not in his own bedroom. “It’s supposed to be comfortable, but let me know if it’s too tight. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Kuroo chuckles softly. Somehow it makes Kenma’s heart swoop. “You could never hurt me.”

Kenma shakes his head, pushing down the smile threatening to break free. “Alright, next.”

He grabs a few more ropes and begins on Kuroo’s arms. The method is a bit more complex despite also being quite comfortable. “Stay really still. The knots come undone for this one really easy if you move.”

As Kenma works, Kuroo quietly sings the opening to a sports anime they loved since they were kids. Despite his need for concentration, Kenma finds himself humming along. In comparison to all of the other times they’ve had sex, this seems more like their first time. A little less nervous maybe, but just as gentle.

After Kenma finishes, he helps Kuroo find a comfortable position so he can tie his legs as well. The blindfold becomes the last touch, a crimson hue to match the ropes.

“Hey Kenma?”

“Yeah?”

“I know you’re being really methodical about this and I love you for that, but if you don’t do something to me in the next five minutes I think I might die.”

Kenma laughs. “It turns you on that much?”

“ _Yes._ ”

Kenma peeks at Kuroo’s dick. It’s grown harder since Kenma had begun working, the tip now weeping onto Kuroo’s stomach. He reaches out and palms Kuroo, eliciting a moan. He’d been good. He deserves a treat now.

Kenma grabs the bottle of lube and squeezes a bit into his hands. Instead of covering his fingers, however, he grabs a small vibrator from the bottom drawer. “You’re going to take this in for me.”

“Yes, sir,” Kuroo says, his tone more subdued than before.

“Good boy. Oh and one more thing.” Kenma pushes the vibrator all the way inside without warning and Kuroo arches his back with a sharp gasp. “You can’t come until I say so.”

Kenma plays around with settings on the remote. Instead of starting on the lowest setting, he clicks the up button several times before Kuroo’s words turn to mush. Kenma finally lets himself smile.

“Color?” Kenma asks.

“Hah—gr–” _Click._ “Fuck! _Green!_ ”

Kuroo strains against the ropes a bit, but they stay in place. Even when he checks the tension of the arm bindings, they’re still as tight as they were before. No risk of him breaking free before Kenma’s had his fill. He mentally congratulates himself for requesting less abrasive ropes for Kuroo’s first time.

“So, earlier you still seemed to think it funny that you disobeyed direct orders,” Kenma says, his voice smoother. “You think you’re above the rules of our household? Is the Kozume Clan a joke to you?”

Kuroo shakes his head. “No, sir. I was just–”

 _Click._

“Ah! No, I just…I saw you were so close to him and I…”

Kenma reduces the speed a few clicks. “You what, Kuro? Finish your sentences.”

“I wanted to throw him out of the room,” Kuroo admits through his haze. “I wanted to show him what happens to men who don’t understand their position.”

“Oh? It looked like you were the one who didn’t understand his position.”

“That was just–”

Click.

“Kenma, _please._ ”

“Please, what?”

Kuroo can’t look at him behind the blindfold, but Kenma finds himself shivering nonetheless. Even in the middle of a scene, Kuroo manages to throw him off, making it difficult to focus on his task. The way the ropes enhance the smoothness of his skin just makes the ordeal worse. Kuroo is prepared enough. He could just…

No. Kuroo is being punished. He doesn’t get to dictate.

“Please take it out,” Kuroo says, breathing heavy. “I want something else.”

Kenma shakes his head. “Not until you admit you disobeyed me. Not until you admit you were wrong.”

Kuroo groans. “I was wrong!”

Kenma smirks. One click and the vibrations cease. He knows the answer, but asks anyway.

“What do you want me to do to you, Kuro?”

“Fuck me, Kenma,” he pleads. He looks so pretty as he does. “ _Please._ ”

Kenma chuckles and reaches over to the low table next to him. He holds up a deep red vibrator, the shape as realistic as he could find online. The plating around the controls is a metallic gold, the shine creating a sense of opulence perfect for Kenma’s other favorite toy. Tonight was not Kuroo’s night to get fucked. Kenma was much too entertained to give up the position.

He pushes the vibrator in, smirking as Kuroo arches his back. It’s only to fill, but Kenma may have to take it out before too long. He resolves to press a button, allowing the vibrator to buzz within Kuroo.

“Ah, ahhhh,” Kuroo moans. “Kenmaaa.”

“Be good. You can have something better if you are.”

Kenma loosens his kimono, the fabric shifting against itself. He swears Kuroo’s ears twitch at the sound. After discarding the garment and returning to Kuroo’s side, he pours a bit of lube into his own hand and slicks it over his index and middle fingers.

“I’m not going to be the one fucking you tonight, alright?” Kenma says.

“Sh-should I be complaining?” The lilt of Kuroo’s voice hints at new clarity. That won’t do.

Kenma turns up the vibrator.

“Ah! What did I do that time?!”

“Nothing,” Kenma says. “I just like watching you squirm. It’s funny.”

Kuroo scoffs, but it’s soft under the surface. “Oh gee, thanks.”

Kenma sets to working on himself, pushing a single finger down to the knuckle. He’d stretched himself in the morning in anticipation for now, but he wants to make extra sure it won’t hurt. The idea of stopping in the middle because he couldn’t manage to get himself ready hurts his pride more than he’s willing to say.

He pants softly, mixing sounds with Kuroo’s own moans. There aren’t enough perfect moments in the world, but like this, Kenma feels at home.

He adds another finger, sighing as he does so. It’s easy. Practiced. Kuroo’s fingers are longer and thicker, but Kenma knows how to stretch himself despite that.

“Kenma—ah—I’m dying here so…” Kenma swallows his saliva. “Let me feel you.”

“Oh? You’re giving orders now?” Kenma quips.

“I just need to be inside you.” Kenma’s breath hitches. “I need to feel how warm and tight you are around me. I’ve been good, haven’t I? Please, Kenma? Let me make you feel good, too.”

Kenma grunts from how fast he pulls his fingers out. He grazes his prostate on the way out, causing his hips to jolt forward and precum to drip onto Kuroo’s thigh. Kuroo grins.

“You want me that bad?”

Kenma grabs Kuroo’s cock and lines himself up. “Shut up.”

He slams down.

“Fuck!” they both say at the same time—Kuroo out of surprise and Kenma from the slight burn. As much as it hurt, however, it soothes the ache in his insides, one that always precedes getting fucked senselessly by the love of his life.

While Kuroo’s arms and legs remain tied, his hips are unrestrained, meeting Kenma’s drop with a rough thrust of the hips. Kenma attempts to hold back the whining building in his throat, but once Kuroo accidentally slams into Kenma’s prostate, he can barely see much less think.

He clenches around Kuroo and both of their groans become deeper and rougher. His head swims. The only colors filling his vision are the red ropes around tanned skin, and the black mess Kuroo calls hair.

“Kenma, I wanna see.”

Kenma doesn’t hesitate at the request. He slows his movements to untie the blindfold and now gold eyes warm his core.

Kuroo smiles lopsidedly. “There you are.”

Kenma flushes and, out of embarrassment, rides Kuroo harder than before. They’re once again focused only on the sensation of being connected with one another. It’s enough to make Kenma’s precum begin to drip onto Kuroo’s stomach again.

“Kenma I’m gonna—ah—I can’t last like this.”

Kenma can’t either. He leans back on his hands and changes the angle, hitting just where he needs it most. “Go...ahead,” he grunts out.

Kenma cums, squeezing his eyes tight as every nerve ending in his body seems to be centered down below. Just as he regains a semblance of clarity, Kuroo shouts, filling Kenma’s insides. Kenma clenches around Kuroo as he does so, milking him for everything he can get.

They breathe in tandem for a while while they regain a sense of reality again. Kenma lays on Kuroo’s chest without letting Kuroo slip out.

“So. These ropes?” Kuroo says. “We’re using them again.”

Kenma chuckles, breathy and bright. “I’m glad you like them. Do they hurt at all?”

“They’re a little tight, but it’s not too bad. Although I could do without the vibrator in my ass.” Kenma hears the faint buzzing beneath him. “A little on the sensitive side if you couldn’t tell.”

“Mmkay,” Kenma replies, sleepiness beginning to settle in. He lifts himself off of Kuroo’s lap and marvels as cum slides down his inner thigh. “Someone was excited.”

“Are you kidding? You pull out the ancient Kozume shibari techniques and you expect me not to get excited? I’ve been waiting for this since you told me you started training.”

Kenma pulls the vibrator from Kuroo and turns it off, setting it on a nearby towel so it won’t stain the tatami. “Good to know. I guess we can try some of the more difficult stuff next time.”

“Oh _hell_ yes.”

Kenma unties the ropes at Kuroo’s legs, sighing quietly at the slightly irritated skin. “I thought you said this didn’t hurt.”

“Hmm?” Kuroo sits up and peers over at himself. “Oh yeah that’s really not that bad. Although I wouldn’t say no to a bath and copious amounts of lotion just in case.”

“That I can do.”

Kenma unties the rest of the ropes, leaving them in a heap on the floor to be gathered later. Right now he had a giant boyfriend to pamper.

Kenma’s room connects to a private shower and hot spring, so they don’t risk being seen by any of the other workers in the house. It wouldn’t be the worst to run into a guard or two, but there’s always the risk of his mother or father prowling around. They always needed him for something or other.

Kenma kisses Kuroo’s back as he sprays warm water from the shower head onto Kuroo’s body. He scrubs gently at Kuroo’s skin and gives Kuroo a head massage as he washes his hair. This is the part of their relationship he craves the most. It’s the moments after the passion filters into companionable silence, the steam caressing them both in a shower room made for two. He smiles as he helps Kuroo to stand.

He helps Kuroo into the hot spring first, making sure he doesn’t slip. When he enters, the warmth threatens to put him to sleep immediately.

“Sorry I got jealous, by the way,” Kuroo says, his arms perched on the stone floor above the bath.

Kenma tilts his head. “What?”

“You know? That guard or whatever?” Kuroo shakes his head. “You never actually cared to begin with.”

“Oh. Yeah. Him. I told him beforehand I was going to do it. He got all weird about it halfway through though.” Kenma trails a finger along the surface of the water.

“Guess he was more sensitive to the ‘Kozume charm’ than he thought he would be, huh?”

“Eww.”

Kuroo leans over and presses a kiss to Kenma’s shoulder. “So, since you messed with me earlier, does this mean we can watch that documentary later? The one about penguins.”

Kenma nods. “I’ll make that white peach tea we just got from Keiji’s family.”

Kuroo hums in appreciation. “Perfect.”

Kenma subtly scoots closer to Kuroo, slipping his hand into his and intertwining their fingers. “Yeah. It is.”

  


  



End file.
